by Zoe Chant
I wasn’t very good company. I was ashamed to tell him exactly what had happened, so all I said was that a man had turned me against my will and I didn’t want to say who it was. Mostly I stared out the window and vowed to never go back to being that predator. I didn’t like who I was. But I didn’t know who else to be.
When we hit the California border, Hal offered me a choice. He said he could drop me off with his family of bear shifters. He said they were back-to-nature, salt-of-the-earth types who lived in a little rural town and didn’t like the modern world. He said they’d be kind to me, but they were nosy and wouldn’t take “I don’t want to talk about it” for an answer. Or he could take me to the city where he lived and introduce me to a friend of his, a tiger shifter who used to have trouble controlling her power too. He said she was friendly but would respect my privacy.
Needless to say, I picked the friend. That turned out to be Destiny Ford, one of the bodyguards at Protection, Inc. Back then there were just three of them, Hal and Rafa and Destiny. She let me crash at her apartment and coached me on shifting until I could do it easily. And since I was unemployed and had nothing to do, she took me to the office and showed me around.
When she did, I saw that their security system was lousy and their computer system was worse. So I fixed all that for them, and taught them some computer skills while I was at it. In return, they taught me to shoot and fight. Turned out, I had a knack for it. Eventually Hal offered me a job.
I took it thinking I needed something to do, so I wouldn’t go back to stealing just because I was bored. I didn’t expect to get attached to my teammates. But I did. They’re the only friends I have, and they still don’t know what I am.
I know I should have told you earlier. I just couldn’t face it. You rescued people and saved their lives. I lied to them and stole their money.
At least I’m not lying anymore.
Chapter Nine
Justin
Fiona looked him in the eyes, her chin raised and her jaw set, as if she was facing a firing squad and intended to die bravely.
She thinks I’m going to judge her, Justin realized. Then, with a pang like he’d been stabbed in the heart, he thought, No, it’s worse than that. She thinks I despise her.
“I love you,” he said.
Her clear green eyes widened and her lips trembled, as if she wanted to believe him but was afraid to. As if the only thing more painful than knowing the worst was to think it might not be true, and then have your hope snatched away from you. Justin knew all about that.
He pulled her into his arms, hoping his touch would convince her more than his words. She was stiff as a mannequin, not warm and melting into him like she had before. But he held her close and kissed her cheeks and throat and lips until she softened against him.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Did you think this would change how I feel? All it does is make me love you even more. You loved your father and you got justice for him. You had the endurance and tenacity to survive absolute hell. Your entire life got smashed to bits, but you didn’t give up—you picked yourself up and built a totally new life. In fact, you did it twice, and the first time, you were nine. Fiona, you’re amazing.”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “I was a thief. A criminal.”
“So what? That Kelly guy—I heard of him. Your father wasn’t the only person he killed. People died because he was greedy. You did the world a favor when you put him away.”
“Kelly, sure,” she said. “I’ve never regretted what I did to him. But the others...”
“What, like that guy who bit you and dumped you on a mountaintop—in a blizzard?!” A wave of hot fury made his fists clench. “That son of a bitch! Is he still in Vegas? As soon as we’re done with Bianchi, he’s next. I’ll make him pay for what he did to you.”
Her hair brushed against his chin as she shook her head. “Too late. He’s dead. He had a little private plane he liked to fly—that must’ve been how he got me to Wyoming—and it went down somewhere in the Pacific.”
Disappointed, Justin muttered, “I hope he had time to know what was happening. I hope he was just as scared in those last few minutes as you were when you woke up on that mountain.”
Fiona spread her hands in a “who knows” gesture. “I do too, to be honest. But we’ll never know. The black box is at the bottom of the ocean. Anyway, he’s gone.”
“Good riddance,” Justin said. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about trying to rip him off. He deserved a lot worse. Sure, stealing is wrong. But it’s not like you ruined anyone’s life. They had plenty of money to spare. They probably lost more than you took from them in an average day at the stock market.”
“It’s not about whether the guys I stole from deserved it or not, or could afford it or not. It’s that I didn’t care about anything but my next score and my next thrill. Once I was forced to take a break and think about who I was, I really didn’t like myself.” She lowered her head, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face. Softly, she said, “My father was an honest man. I can’t imagine he’d have been proud of the woman I became.”
“I bet he’d have been proud of the woman you are now.”
She looked up, startled.
“You protect people,” Justin said. “You put away criminals. Your whole career is about making the world a better place. You’re brilliant and beautiful and kind. And you build little robot dogs. What Dad wouldn’t want that in a daughter?”
“He’d definitely have liked the robots,” she said, and smiled a little. “I hadn’t thought of that before. Thanks for saying so.”
“You could’ve gone right back to being a thief, if you’d wanted. You didn’t. Yeah, there’s things in your past that you regret. Things you’re ashamed of. But you can’t change the past. What matters is what you’re doing now.”
Fiona looked him steadily in the eyes. “That’s right, Justin. Now is what matters. For you, too.”
His first impulse was to deny it, to argue, to say that it was different for him. But was it? Sure, no one had died because of her. But she’d gone through hell. And she’d walked out the other side. He’d gone through hell too, though of a different sort.
And you walked out, purred his snow leopard. Here you are, on the other side.
“Maybe you’re right.” His voice came out in a whisper.
“You know I am.” She yawned. “Sorry. I’m really tired, all of a sudden.”
“You should go back to sleep. You need rest to heal.”
“All right.” She let him help her lie down, then pulled him down beside her. “Same to you. Keep me company. I won’t let you go.”
Holding each other tight, they fell into a deep and healing sleep.
Fiona spent the rest of that day and the next resting. When she woke, he made sure she ate and drank, and then they lay together kissing and talking; when she slept, he made sure she lay safe and warm in his arms. And as long as she held him, he slept peacefully and unafraid. Maybe all he’d ever needed was to know that if he did have one, he wouldn’t wake up alone.
For those two days and nights, Justin was happier than he’d been in his entire life. Fiona had trusted him enough to tell him the darkest secret of her life. Now that she had, he could see that a weight had been lifted from her. The shadow behind her eyes, which he’d perceived without knowing what it was, had vanished. If he’d never done anything else to help anyone in his life, he’d have been content just with that.
And she loved him. Whenever he looked down at her as she slept, her platinum hair fanning out over the pillow and her rose-pink lips slightly parted, he’d think, She loves me. Every time, the thought filled him with astonished joy.
Fiona had seen how damaged he was, even if she didn’t know all the details, and she still loved him. He’d never thought he’d ever consider himself lucky again... but he felt lucky.
I told you so, purred his snow leopard.
Yeah, yeah, you’re smarter than me, Justi
n replied. Don’t let it go to your head.
They got up at dawn on the morning of Carnival, to get their costumes before the streets filled up with costumed revelers and make sure that they caught Bianchi on his way out. The morning air was very cold, and Fiona pulled her coat tight around her body.
At the shop, Mr. Toscani handed them a bag containing their wrapped packages, along with a flood of Italian. Justin and Fiona smiled and nodded.
“Any idea what he was saying?” Justin asked once they were outside.
“Not much,” Fiona admitted. “Well, I did get that the black packages are for you and the white ones are for me.”
He made a face at her. “He handed the black ones to me and the white ones to you. No points for that. Did you get any idea of what they actually are?”
“Absolutely none,” she admitted.
“I remember you telling him we were like Cirque du Soleil. I saw them once. I hope he didn’t take that literally, or you’ll be a clown and I’ll be a polka-dotted earthworm.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” she said cheerfully.
“If I can’t move or see in this thing, I’m going as a snow leopard,” he warned her. “You can tell everyone I’m on all fours and wearing a fur rug.”
Her clear laugh echoed in the empty streets.
When they returned to the apartment, she suggested, “Let’s surprise each other and change separately.”
“Sure. Dazzle me with your beauty. Even more than you normally do, I mean.”
Scooping up his packages, he went into the bathroom and closed the door. As he turned to put down the packages, his reflection in the mirror caught his eye. Instinctively, he started to turn away. Then he made himself look.
Ever since Apex had taken him, he’d hated to see his own reflection. Living underground had paled his skin, and his handlers had dyed his hair. His skin and hair could change, of course. But his eyes wouldn’t. Before he’d been forced to undergo the Ultimate Predator process, they’d been a deep, intense green. Afterward, he’d watched them slowly darken. At first he’d thought he was imagining it. But within three months, they were black as engine oil. For weeks he’d stared and stared, trying to see the man he was within those fragments of black ice. He never could. Finally, he’d stopped trying.
Apex had kept him in good physical condition, more or less. They fed him nutritous meals, assigned him an exercise program, and made sure none of their “experiments” caused any permanent physical damage. They’d carefully monitored when and how long he was invincible, and always gave him plenty of recovery time afterward. But since he didn’t sleep well even when he wasn’t invincible and tranquilizers didn’t work on him, he always looked tired and worn. By the end of the first year, there were new lines in his face. Whenever his hair started to grow out between dye jobs, he saw strands of premature white.
Every time he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he’d thought, That’s not me. It had bothered him so much that he’d eventually hung a towel over the mirror in his bathroom.
After he’d escaped, he’d tried going back to his natural hair color, but that lasted all of a week. Then the turned heads and stares had made him too edgy, and he’d dyed it again. With no one to stop him from becoming invincible, he’d stayed that way more and more, and for longer and longer, until he lost so much weight that the shape of his face changed. Whenever he saw his reflection, in the window of a shop or in the rear-view mirror, a stranger gazed back at him.
But now, Justin stopped to look at himself. He’d regained a lot of the weight he’d lost, and the winter sunlight had given him a light tan. His hair and eyes were still the wrong color. But when he looked into his own eyes, he could see himself in those inky depths.
I look so different, he thought. Then, I look like me.
Justin stood transfixed at the mirror until clattering from the other room pulled him back to his task at hand. He unwrapped the larger package without giving the costume a close look, his mind still on that realization. Then he unwrapped the mask.
The sight of it brought him back down to earth. It was a half-mask, covering the upper part of his face, made of soft leather painted in stark blacks and whites with one eye-catching splash of color. The left side was painted black, with delicate lines to indicate laughter. The right side was painted white, with lines of sorrow and, just below the hole cut for the eye, a single scarlet tear.
Unsettled, Justin thought, No wonder Mr. Toscani is famous. I guess a true artist can see things without being told.
Only then did he look at his costume. As Mr. Toscani had promised, it was easy to move in. It consisted of polished black boots, black pants, a white shirt, a black jacket, and a long black coat. The buttons on the coat and jacket were silver, and there was white piping on the jacket. It was beautifully made and perfectly tailored, and it looked nothing like a Cirque du Soleil costume. What it did look like was a military uniform for a formal occasion.
He put on the shirt and pants and boots, then his shoulder holster. Slowly, he buttoned the jacket so that the only white showing was his shirt collar.
Dress blacks, he thought. Like my Air Force dress blues.
He put on the black coat. The hem swirled around his calves. It would look very dramatic when he walked, but wouldn’t hinder his movements. If necessary, he could shrug out of it in an instant.
Now that he was in a sort of uniform, he looked more like his old self than ever. His hair was even starting to grow out, giving him a band of brilliant copper at the hairline. Cut it short and close his eyes to hide the black, and he could be the man they’d called Red, who’d gotten in that helo with Shane and Mason and the others for what he’d thought would be just another mission.
Red had gotten everyone but Shane killed. He’d put Shane through hell and given him scars he’d bear for the rest of his life.
He couldn’t risk that happening to Fiona.
She’s wounded, he thought. Vulnerable. The man she needs now is Subject Seven.
No! The snarl inside his head was loud and frantic, almost a scream. Don’t—
Justin closed his eyes and summoned the ice. His snow leopard kept on shrieking at him until the ice reached his heart. Then the scream cut off. Justin was alone in the silent dark.
He opened his eyes, put on the mask, and went back into the bedroom. Fiona now wore a knee-length dress and a half-mask. She twirled around, making the skirt flare out.
“Good,” Justin said. “You won’t have any trouble moving in that.”
Fiona stopped dead. “What have you done?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re using that power of yours. Aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Invincibility. Yes, I am.”
“Take it off,” she demanded.
Justin shook his head.
“Why not?”
“You were wounded recently,” he reminded her. “I need more of an edge to make up for that.”
“Exactly how does turning yourself into a robot make up for me having a sore shoulder?”
Patiently, he explained, “When I’m invincible, I can’t feel pain or shock. If I get shot, I can still keep on—”
“I know that!” Fiona’s voice rose. “You already told me. So let me tell you something I’ve already told you: if you get shot, we’ve got bigger problems than whether you collapse on the spot or half an hour later. Take it off.”
“No.” He checked his watch. “We need to go.”
“I know. Take it off, and then we can leave.”
“I won’t.” He tried to read her body language. She was angry, obviously; her arms were folded across her chest, and her face was bright pink. She seemed unlikely to drop the matter. “All right. You stay here. I’ll go by myself.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? No!”
“Either we go together, or I’ll go alone. Either way, I’m going as I am.”
Fiona’s flush went from pink to red. “Fine. There’s obvi
ously no point trying to talk to you when you’re like this. But we will once you take it off.”
Justin shrugged. That made no difference to him. “Sure. Let’s go.”
They set out in silence. But they’d already thoroughly reviewed their plan, so there was no need to discuss it again.
They reached their chosen lookout with a view of Bianchi’s house. The guards were still there. Justin and Fiona settled in to wait. As time passed, more people began to appear. Many of them were in masks and costumes. As Fiona had predicted, a number of those found good spots to see and be seen, and stayed in them. No doubt Justin and Fiona would be assumed to be doing the same thing, if anyone noticed them at all. He didn’t think their costumes were spectacular enough to attract much attention, which was good.
By 8:00 AM, the streets were crowded.
At 9:14, Bianchi appeared. He was dressed as a king, with a gold robe and crown and half-mask, and accompanied by four men dressed as courtiers, who were presumably guards. He began to slowly walk down the street, clearly enjoying the attention of passersby. Justin waited to him to pass the alley he and Fiona were in. They would then wait for him to get a little farther away, then start following him.
He instead turned to go into the alley. Justin briefly considered jumping him and his men right there... but no, they were too close to the house and all the other guards. Even the slightest error that allowed one to yell would bring all the others running. They’d have to just let Bianchi and his guards pass by.
But when he did pass, it was possible that he might recognize Justin from his body or the bottom half of his face or even from his eyes, if he got close enough—and it was a narrow alley, so he could easily get that close. Justin had to hide his face.
He turned to Fiona. She’d obviously had the exact same thought, because as Justin stepped to turn his back to Bianchi, she stepped to face him. She clasped him around the waist, he wrapped his arms around her back, and he pressed his lips to hers. They stayed like that, pretending to kiss, until Justin heard their footsteps pass by, then fade in the distance.